Fallout
by Voyfan2
Summary: A J/P take on "Repression." As some relationships shatter and others form, Kathryn and Tom try to bring the crew back together after the attempted mutiny. (Chapters 8&9 now up –STORY COMPLETE)
1. Chapter 1

_Tom, Kate and everyone else Voyager related belong to CBS at the moment. This is for entertainment purposes only; I certainly make no money from this._

_AN: While I appreciate the need for the reset button, I would think the events of "Repression" wouldn't have been so easily shrugged off … that relationships would be damaged, and that some damage can't be repaired. So, a J/P take on what might have happened afterward._

xxx

I sit and watch the stars streak by the windows of the Ready Room. That music I put on isn't much of a distraction.

I should be in my quarters, but after all that's happened, I need to be close to the Bridge. Not that I want to be _here_, either. I can still see Chakotay … who've I've trusted with my life … telling Tuvok to shoot me. And Tuvok, my longtime colleague and friend, hit the damn trigger.

I know now that was a ruse on Tuvok's part. I know they weren't themselves. But I'm shaken to the core.

The chime rings at the back door, and I check my visitor's identity. Some people I'm just not ready to see. Fortunately, it's Tom. He's in civilian clothes, too, and carrying a small duffle. He's also carrying a phaser rifle.

I bring a bottle and glasses over to the couch and pour the drinks. He gives the contents a sniff. "Brandy?"

"Close. Picked it up during our last shore leave," I reply. "I think we all need a stiff drink tonight."

"I … I didn't want to be in my quarters. Harry's on duty," he says, motioning toward the Bridge. "And I thought that you might not want to be alone, either."

"I've certainly had better days," I admit. "Hasn't B'Elanna been released from Sick Bay?"

"Probably," he admits. "I don't want to talk to her. Right now, all I can see is her holding a rifle on me … and that she hated me enough to shoot."

"That wasn't B'Elanna, you know. It wasn't any of them. They are as much victims as we are."

He gives me a sad smile. "Well, _Captain_, I know you're right. But tell me, _Kathryn_, why is _that_ next to your desk?" he asks, pointing to the compression rifle that's sitting there.

Busted. "I'm shaky right now, too," I say. And we're not the only ones. The Bridge crew is wearing sidearms. That stops with Alpha shift, but tonight, well, I couldn't very well tell them no, could I?

"It's spooky in the corridors right now. Everyone is holed up somewhere."

"No doubt," I sigh and swirl the liquor in my glass. Might as well tell him. "The preliminary report to Starfleet goes out in the morning feed. I've asked for the appropriate counseling programs to be transmitted. I've also asked for a counselor to be available during our transmission windows, as well as through vid exchange." I make sure he's looking at me. "I'm ordering _everyone_ into counseling. We can't be an armed camp. We'll all end up dead.

"I'm going to need your help here," I say softly. "Until Chakotay, Tuvok, or B'Elanna are medically cleared for duty, you're my first officer."

He starts, and for a moment I think that he's going to jump off the couch. I stay quiet and hold his gaze until I see the acceptance and resolution take hold.

He finally nods. "You'll have it. Whatever you need."

We talk for a while about ship's business, then mercifully, about other things until we both start yawning. "I take it you need a place to crash?" I ask.

He nods. "I was going to find some empty quarters."

"I'm sleeping here," I say, and he raises an eyebrow. "It's not the first time," I admit, remembering the nights right after we were tossed out here. "You're welcome to stay if you want. The couch is pretty comfortable."

He gives me an odd look. "It's a sectional. With enough sections to make two couches. Far apart." I assure him.

We reconfigure the couches; he's amused that I keep pillows and blankets in here. Finally, we settle in and I turn off the lights.

"Hey, thank you," he says.

"It's OK," I reply. And actually, it's nice not to be alone.

xxx

I wake him early. "Rise and shine, first officer," I say, not pausing as he tries to rub the sleep from his eyes. "I tweaked the Beta shift rosters last night. Call the Bridge crew and tell them to report for a meeting at 0700. Our acting senior staff, too." I chuckle at his befuddlement. "Go wash your face and grab some coffee on me. It's going to be a long day."

I walk onto the Bridge. Harry starts to report but I wave him off. "Two things: At 0700, hand off to the Alpha shift, but remain here. I'm calling Beta shift to join us for a quick meeting."

They don't look surprised, so I move on. "And all of those sidearms go back in storage by 0600."

"Captain?" a voice questions from the back. I fix the crewman with my best Captain's glare.

"That's an order, Mr. Williams." I nod at Harry. "Carry on."

Back in the Ready Room, Tom is dressed and sending messages. I move to the replicator and do what I should have done last night. Holding onto my prize, I walk over to Tom and clear my throat.

"Something I forgot to mention. Minimum rank for first officers is Lieutenant Commander. So, congratulations," I say, holding out the pip.

He looks a bit shocked as I pin it to his collar, then he brightens. "Do I get more rations?"

"Yes, you do," I chuckle. "But I _am_ ordering you to either suspend that betting pool or have someone else run it for the duration. Welcome to the big time," I quip.

xxx

We walk out at 0700 to see all three bridge crews waiting for us. I also see the Doctor and Neelix, along with Joe Carey for Engineering and Magnus Rollins for Tactical. I look around: Gamma shift got rid of the sidearms, though I still see a few on the other folks. I also notice some puzzled looks aimed at Tom.

"Good morning. I'll be making a shipwide announcement this morning, so you'll hear some of this again. This has been a difficult situation for all of us. We're going to be stretched for personnel for a while, so let me thank you now for your hard work.

"First, Lieutenant Commander Paris is acting first officer." A number of mouths drop open at that, including Harry's. "Sorry, Doctor, but you'll have to do without Tom's help in Sick Bay for a while." The Doctor wisely decides to keep his mouth shut.

I go through a few other things, including the mandatory counseling. Then I look around. "I see that some of you are wearing sidearms. I'm aware that other crew members are also armed. As of 0900 hours, we return to standard protocol: No sidearms unless ordered. All weapons are to be back in storage by then."

That creates a murmur. "Perhaps I need to make this clear," I growl. "What happened is not the fault of anyone on the ship. We were infiltrated, blindsided. We are still one crew. And I will not turn this ship into an armed camp."

More murmuring. Then, "Captain, what if they still have weapons?"

"As I said, we are still one crew. Therefore, my order applies to _all_ members of the crew."

I look around; they're not happy, but that's to be expected. "Consider something," I say more softly. "_We_ could have been the ones affected. How would we want other crew members to treat us?"

Not that I'm going to debate this. I nod. "Beta and Gamma shifts are dismissed. Everyone else, carry on."

Neelix follows us into the Ready Room. "Captain, should I send up breakfast for you and Tom?"

"Yes, you should," Tom says with a grin.

I chuckle. "Go ahead, Neelix. Someday, I'll find a first officer who doesn't care about my eating habits."


	2. Chapter 2

Tom is a quick study. I've been able to offload a few of my responsibilities on him so I can take some of the personnel duties. His position is temporary, and there are some things he shouldn't know.

I rather enjoy having him in the other chair. Our easy personal relationship has rolled into our new professional one, so the atmosphere up here has become considerably lighter. This might be one of the few places on the ship where people smile.

Tuvok was given his medical release. I suspect there's something that the Doctor isn't telling me. But unless, or until, it impacts ship operations, Tuvok's entitled to his privacy.

I offer him the first officer's spot. "Is Commander Paris performing up to standard?" he asks.

"Above standard, actually, but you are above him in the chain of command."

"If you are happy with Mr. Paris' performance," he says, "I would prefer to return to my post at Tactical."

This makes me uneasy, but it's not because of Tom. I grant his request.

Chakotay's return is more problematic. He has clearance but asked for two more weeks. He was trying to work things out, he said. He also wanted to counsel some of the other former Maquis.

I'm almost relieved. While Tuvok and I are repairing our relationship, there's still strain with Chakotay. He's not cold, but I sense a certain remoteness, as if he's taken several steps back from our friendship. Then again, so have I.

xxx

Mike Ayala is back today, reporting early so Tuvok can prep him for Beta shift. The first person to greet him is Tom, who holds out his hand. "Good to see you, Mike," he says simply as they shake on it. I stay in the Ready Room for the first hour of the shift, but Mike is back to work without incident.

I walk into the Mess Hall and stop short: One corner of the room looks like a war zone. Neelix and a few crewmen are cleaning broken dishes from the floor and food from the wall.

"What on Earth happened?" I ask Neelix, who looks embarrassed.

"Tom and B'Elanna were having dinner," he says. "I think their counselor suggested it. I don't know what happened, but B'Elanna began yelling at him, then started throwing things. "

I do a quick check; B'Elanna's on the holodeck, probably beating the hell out of something. Tom's in his quarters. Harry is with him, so I leave that be and get some dinner.

xxx

Afterward, I stop by Chakotay's quarters. He's calmly sipping tea, which irritates me for some reason.

I give him an outline of what happened in the Mess Hall. "I'd appreciate it if you'd talk to B'Elanna. Or talk to her again."

He sighs and nods. "I suspect Tom isn't completely blameless," he says with a slightly raised eyebrow.

"Possibly, but I'm not privy to what goes on. On the other hand, when someone you've put your trust in points a gun at you, it's bound to damage the relationship."

That was mean, I know, and he pales a little. I don't expect … or want … him to grovel on the floor, but his attitude seems a bit disingenuous. Or maybe I'm just pissed because the only time I haven't had a nightmare is the night that Tom and I camped in the Ready Room.

"Right now, we have a situation in which the chief engineer has publicly attacked the first officer. I'd prefer not to step into what's really a marital issue, but this can't happen again."

xxx

I walk by the holodecks; nothing open, but I notice that Sandrine's is running. I think I know who I'll find there.

A few of the holograms are milling about, but overall it's quiet. Tom's idly shooting balls around the pool table. He looks up as I approach and gives me a half smile.

"I take it you heard?"

"I saw the wreckage," I reply. "You all right?"

He shrugs as he leans against the table. "She wants me to come home. When I said I wasn't ready she went ballistic." He shakes his head. "We can't talk. It ends up in a battle. The holographic counseling session was a bust. We were doing better with the vid messages until today. Maybe we need a real-life referee."

I make a note to talk to the Doctor. "Are you talking to a counselor for yourself?"

He nodded. "It's helped … though when I told her that, it sparked another fight." He shifts, and I see the bruises on his arm and hand. "She's scared," he says, more to himself. "She wants this to disappear, and I can't … "

My heart goes out to him, but I can't insert myself into this. "I wish I had a solution for you. All I can suggest is not to give up on counseling." I pause, "As your captain, I do have to tell you that we can't have another incident like the one in the Mess Hall."

He just nods, and the atmosphere in here seems downright oppressive. I pick up a cue. "But, hey, maybe my winning a couple of games will make you feel better."

He laughs. "A little pool therapy? Sure, you're on."

We're in the middle of a game when the doors open and Meg and Jen Delaney walk in. "Wow, I think it's been a couple of years since I've been in here," Jen says.

"Hey, grab a drink," Tom says. "I could use another opponent at pool. This one," he jerks a thumb in my direction, "keeps beating me."

So we play as teams for a bit; the door opens again. This time it's Jor and Tabor, who freeze when they see us.

"Sorry, Captain, didn't realize you were using the program," Tabor says as they start to back out.

"Come on in! It's open to everyone," Tom calls.

"_Please_ come in," Meg says. "Jor, I know you play pool. These two are whipping us. Er, no offense, Captain." I just laugh.

Tom and I move off to the bar and watch the new foursome play. He's smiling to himself. "Thinking what I'm thinking?" I ask.

"That it would be a good idea to keep this program open?"

I nod. "It's one of the places we gathered in the beginning. Maybe it will help us start over."


	3. Chapter 3

Turns out that opening Sandrine's was a good idea. As word spread, people began to stop by for a drink or a game of pool. Tom even expanded the program to make room for a second table and a dartboard. I can't say it's all smooth: We've had incidents in which tempers flared, but other folks stepped in before it got out of hand.

I stop in every evening; actually, it's the high point of my day. I play pool or join the card game that Joe and Magnus have moved out here. Some nights, I just have a drink and chat with folks, especially those who aren't part of a group. At some point, Tom and I gravitate toward each other; lately, we've been talking about other group activities — holodeck and otherwise.

"I'm beginning to feel like a camp counselor," I mock complain.

He shrugs. "If that's what it takes," he says, giving me an unobtrusive nudge.

xxx

Chakotay finally shows up. Maybe no one needs counseling or he's tired of drinking tea. We have a quick conversation; he goes on to play a bit of pool and make the rounds of tonight's visitors.

"Someone new's arrived, I see," Tom says quietly as he pours me a drink. "Must be getting lonely," I joke.

"Maybe he's afraid he's been replaced," Tom jokes back. "Not that I'd fight him for the job."

"You are incorrigible," I chuckle. Truthfully, I'd be happy to keep Tom but don't know what I'd do with Chakotay. There's no way in hell I'd let him be Chief Conn.

xxx

Maybe Tom was right: Two days later, Chakotay asks to return to duty.

"You probably want this back," Tom says when I tell him, his hand going to the extra pip.

"No, keep it."

His mouth drops open. "Are you sure?"

"You've done a hell of a good job in a very difficult situation. You've definitely earned it. Besides, now that I have a spot open, it's time we gave Harry his long-overdue promotion."

He's almost overcome. "Thank you. You won't regret this."

"See that I don't," I say lightly.

xxx

Chakotay returns to his post, and I swear the emotional temperature on the Bridge has dropped 25 degrees. He knows that we have to put on a good front, but we tend to conduct ship's business very efficiently these days.

I am concerned about the looks he throws at Tom. Is this on behalf of B'Elanna? Or his own jealousy?

With more free time, Tom has taken up the role of camp counselor. He talked Neelix into putting a Ping-Pong table in a corner of the Mess Hall. He's also installed a half basketball court in one of the cargo bays.

"You familiar with the game?" he asks when I come down to take a look.

"Mr. Paris, basketball is a _religion_ in Indiana. My grandfather nailed a basket above the barn door." I didn't mention that Daddy taught his daughters to play Horse on a kid-sized basket.

I grab a ball and step up to the 3-point line. I bounce it a couple of times, line up and let her fly. Damned if I don't nail it ….

Tom's mouth drops open, then he shakes his head. "Jesus Christ," is all he can say.

xxx

Three weeks in, and everyone seems more at ease. It's not perfect: The Doctor reports, without detail of course, that he still treats panic attacks and prescribes anti-anxiety medication. But at least everyone is fit for duty, and we get through the days now without incident. So it's time for me to step back and let Neelix handle the morale business.

Actually, it's time for me to step back from Tom — before we step over a very dangerous line.


	4. Chapter 4

Saturday, and there's an open ski trip available in Holodeck 3. I'm restless, and the spot is one of my favorites, so I decide to go. Maybe a little cold air will clear my head.

I'm headed for the ski lift when I run into Neelix. I have to tease him a bit; a Talaxian in a parka is a sight to behold.

"Glad you could make it, Captain," he enthuses. Be sure to stop by the lodge; Harry and Tom and B'Elanna are there right now."

"Good to hear," I say, and pat his shoulder. B'Elanna being here is a good sign: She, like Tuvok, doesn't do well with the cold.

I take the scenic run; it's an easy slope with plenty of opportunities to pull off and enjoy the view. I'm standing at one of the outlooks when I hear someone behind me. It's Tom.

"Well, hello," I say, and pointedly look behind him. He just shakes his head.

"Another day, another argument," he says resignedly. "She left; I decided to go skiing."

I wince. He looks at me for a long moment. "Haven't seen you around Sandrines lately … or much of anywhere else. You OK?"

"Yeah," I lie. "Things seem to be calmer; time for the Captain to get out of the way."

He's not buying it. "Did _I_ do something?"

"No," I say emphatically, and I see a shadow cross his face. I could finesse this, give him some excuse. But I owe him more than that. "I'm concerned that ... I've been in the way of you and B'Elanna working things out."

"You're not," he says firmly. "And we haven't done anything wrong."

"No, we haven't, but perception is everything. And if it looks like you'd rather play pool with me at Sandrine's instead of going back to your wife, then people are going to make assumptions."

"Actually, I _would_ rather play pool with you."

"And I'd rather play pool with you ..." Oh, God, I've done it now. Tom has picked up the affection in my voice. He doesn't say anything, just looks at me and smiles softly. And there's no mistaking the affection in his eyes, either. One step forward … a touch … a kiss … and we'd be in emotional free-fall.

I finally find my voice. "You know, your friendship means a lot to me. But we can't afford gossip and innuendo. It would throw a plasma grenade into our working relationships. That would be even more dangerous than what we just faced." I won't mention … yet … that B'Elanna and I may be damn close. She's professional in our interactions, but I see a hardness in her eyes that wasn't there before.

His shoulders slump a bit; he just nods. "Please don't think I'm abandoning you," I say softly. "But you have to get your marriage sorted out. This isn't fair to either of you."

He's still quiet, and I lay a hand on his arm. "I don't mean to interfere, but there's a question you might consider, if you haven't already: Is this the result of Teero's experiment, or were you already in trouble, and this just brought it out in the open?"

He doesn't answer, and I don't want him to. "I need to get back," I say as I move to the trail. "Hey, be careful around the next outlook. That part of the trail tends to get icy."

xxx

I don't know if they ever had that conversation, but B'Elanna has taken matters into her own hands. She's filed for dissolution. Not sure if it's a case of "I'll leave you first," or if she's just trying to shock Tom into coming back.

The answer arrives during what seems to be a routine shift. Tuvok announces that Security has been called to Sick Bay and leaves the Bridge. Chakotay and I look at each other, then follow him.

A corner of Sick Bay is a wreck, with lab containers and instruments scattered on the floor. My heart jumps into my mouth: Tom's on a biobed, apparently unconscious, as the Doctor works on him.

Seven is talking to Tuvok as we approach. "Report," I order.

"I was conversing with the Doctor as Commander Paris was attending to his duties," she says crisply, gesturing toward the disheveled area. Lieutenant Torres came in; she seemed quite agitated. She waved a PADD at Commander Paris and began to scream something about him giving up.

"Mr. Paris replied that the dissolution is best for both of them, so he wasn't contesting it. She attacked him. The Doctor and I had to restrain her."

"And where is Lieutenant Torres right now?" I ask Tuvok.

"She was escorted to the brig," he replies. I wonder what he's thinking; not that he'll show it.

We wait in silence for a few minutes until the Doctor finishes with Tom.

"Mr. Paris suffered a severe concussion, a broken cheekbone and a hairline fracture of the jaw in the incident. I expect him to make a full recovery, but he needs to remain here overnight."

He looks over at the mess. "Unfortunately," he says acerbically, "I cannot repair the lab samples that Lt. Torres destroyed. Some unfortunate crew members will have to donate again."

I thank him, and motion for Chakotay and Tuvok to come with me. We enter the lift, which I stop a few moments into the trip.

"Chakotay, personnel is your department. But I do expect to see some consequences here."

"I think we need a medical evaluation first," Chakotay says softly.

I've already had this discussion with the Doctor; he tells me it's not a medical problem. But perhaps it's time to be more aggressive. "All right. But let's wait until Tom is released, shall we?" I say as I resume the lift.

xxx

It's late when I slip into Sick Bay, but the Doctor is still active. "What can I do for you, Captain?" he asks.

"Just stopped by to check on Tom. How is he?"

"Recovering nicely, though he'll be in pain for the next day or so. I'll run tests tomorrow afternoon. If all goes well, I'll release him to quarters. However, he won't be fit for duty until early next week."

"I'm glad to hear that he'll be all right," I say and start to turn. "I don't want to disturb him, so ..."

"He's awake; I just gave him something for the pain. Actually, I think he'd appreciate the company." He waves me toward the biobeds. "I'll be in my office."

Tom's eyes open at my approach, and he smiles, though from the grimace that follows, it must have cost him. The Doctor cleaned up the bruises and cuts, but his face is still swollen.

"Hey," I whisper as I lay a hand on his chest.

"Hey," he whispers back as he places his hand on mine. "You were right about that question ..."

I nod and put my other hand atop his. "I'm so sorry … we can talk when you're feeling better." There's so much I want to say: That I'm sorry it all fell apart; even sorrier for any part I had in it. But this isn't the time or place. I'm not even sure if there ever will be a time or place for those words.

He's dozing off, so I remove my hands and finish with a gentle stroke of his hair. "Goodnight, sweet prince," I whisper before I leave.


	5. Chapter 5

We've just started Alpha shift when Chakotay leans over. "B'Elanna has asked for the Engineering reports. Joe Carey is asking for permission to send them to her."

I shrug. "I assume you didn't put her in solitary confinement," I say quietly. "So, fine with me."

A bit later I head down to the brig. Both B'Elanna and the crewman on guard duty look surprised, but I wave him off and disable the force field.

I lean against the wall: I have to because PADDs are scattered all over the cell. Have to admit, I admire the work ethic.

"I'm sorry to hear about the dissolution," I begin. Actually, I'm sick about the whole mess and for the toll it's taken on us.

She puts down the PADD she was holding and looks at me for a moment, measuring her words.

"I know … I know this hurt Tom. It hurt both of us. I really wanted to put my marriage back together. But my husband seemed to be spending all his time with you at Sandrine's. Or was it your Ready Room?"

I sigh, but I'm not surprised by the implied accusation. Despite Tom's assurances to the contrary, I've heard from more than one source about what was said during those fights. Sound carries …

"You know," I say softly. "Tom was dropped into a job he never expected and certainly wasn't prepared for. If, say, I ordered you to train Mr. Harren to maintain the tricyclic input manifold, you'd have to spend a great deal of time with him, too."

Her eyes widened in horror at the thought that I might actually do that.

"As for the rest … crewmembers were walking the corridors with phaser rifles; Neelix had to ban weapons from the Mess Hall. We had to do something, and if Tom and I had to hold court in Sandrine's to help repair things, well …" I shrug.

"But I will tell you this: The only thing that Tom and I have ever done on a pool table was play pool. So yes, I did take up his time. But it wasn't so he could cheat on you." My conscience may not be entirely clear when it comes to Tom, but that is the God's truth.

She's shocked at my bluntness. But I also sense she doesn't believe me. Maybe she can't allow herself to ...

xxx

The legalities didn't take long, all things considered. I can feel the atmosphere change as word spreads about the dissolution becoming final. Fortunately, there's no staff meeting today.

We're just as quiet up here; Tom hasn't said a word all morning; Harry looks downright uncomfortable. I can't manufacture a reason to call Tom to the Ready Room, but I deliberately let my hand linger on his shoulder as we discuss a navigation matter at the helm.

As for my afternoon, Seven calls me to Astrometrics to look over some scans … a possible wormhole. It's well into Beta shift before we finish, unfortunately with little to show for our efforts.

A few folks from Gamma shift are in the Mess Hall when I get there, and Neelix is setting up a small spread for the shift change. He waves me over, and I take a plate of something that doesn't look objectionable.

He slides into a chair across from me as I eat. "How are things with the crew?" I ask. He shrugs a bit, "Subdued, but I think it will be all right." He shakes his head. "As fond as I am of both of them, I can't say I … or anyone else is surprised."

I just smile sadly as he continues. "I haven't seen much of B'Elanna; I'm told she's been spending a lot of time with Chakotay. Tom's been in, and people have been very good about supporting him. He had company for both lunch and dinner."

"He has more friends than he knows," I say.

"I'm glad he has you as a friend, too," he says. I just raise an eyebrow.

"You make a good team," he says. "You kept the Bridge together; I could always see the difference in here when the Alpha shift came in to eat. You two brought the whole ship back together. And ..." he lowers his voice as he leans in, "it's obvious that you like and respect each other. You certainly enjoy each other's company."

Maybe it's my conscience making me read something into Neelix's praise, but I just thank him and finish my meal.

The computer can't pick up Tom's location. I take a guess and find him in the aeroshuttle, docked on the underside of the saucer.

He turns in his seat as he senses my arrival, and his face brightens. "I just wanted to check on you," I say.

"I'm glad you found me," he says quietly, nodding toward the seat next to him.

"You OK?" I ask as I sit. He nods. "People have been really great," he says quietly. "Though maybe we should have decided who got custody of Harry."

I give him an odd look, and he shrugs. "He's uncomfortable splitting his friendship; I've told him I don't mind him being friends with B'Elanna. I don't know what she's telling him."

"Well, we all have to work together," I allow. "I'm sure he'll figure it out."

He studies me for a moment. "Did you mean what you said at the ski program … about not abandoning me?"

"Of course I did," I say. I'm actually surprised he would ask that.

He looks down, then back up at me. "I was wondering if you'd like to spend some time together … just us. Holodeck, dinner … I got custody of the TV, we could watch movies ..."

"Mr. Paris," I tease, "are you asking me out on a date?"

"I suppose I am. I miss you." He's trying to keep this light, but I can see he's gathering himself as if he's about to ward off a blow. He's expecting me to refuse, to quote protocol at him. God knows I've done enough of that to someone else.

But I can't. I've missed him… God, I've missed laughing and playing pool, and having someone who sees me as a human being and not a set of pips … or someone who I've disappointed. This wasn't the outcome I expected or intended. But here we are ...

"Well, Tom," I say gently. "I'd like that very much. I miss you, too."

His smile … well, it lights up his face like a sunburst, then it settles into that devilish grin. "Since you're here … Computer, play Paris Jazz mix47." The music starts to play, and he slides out of his seat and offers his hand. "Care to dance?"

Now aeroshuttles aren't the most spacious spacecraft. There's barely room for Tom to stand up straight, and the only halfway open space is next to the cargo door. He leads me back there, then pulls me into his arms.

I settle … no, melt into him as we move to the music. Nothing fancy … there's no room. But all we both need is to hold on to each other. His hand rubs my back, and I tighten my arms around him.

I should remind him that we need to be discreet, but I think he already knows that. Instead, I lean back and catch his gaze. "It occurs to me," I say softly, "that we don't really know where we are right now." His blue eyes darken, but his expression doesn't change. "I think we're both rather vulnerable at the moment … how about we promise that we'll be careful with each other?"

His face softens and he nods. "I promise," he whispers before he gently catches my lips in a kiss. It's brief, but soft and warm, and I answer in the same fashion. His lips move up to brush my forehead, and we both sigh as I settle back into his arms.


	6. Chapter 6

And so we begin. Outwardly, we're pretty good at keeping things casual. We continue to banter on the bridge and we talk in social settings. Privately, we spend time on the holodeck, or have dinner, or watch movies. Though it didn't take too long for those movie/dinner nights to become sleepovers.

Do people suspect? Probably; at least one person knows.

ooo

_Tom, I discover, is a romantic. He's taken to sending (or sneaking ) a fresh flower to my Ready Room on Fridays._

_Tuvok would never mention it. But Chakotay took note. "Secret admirer?" he asked oh-so-casually during a meeting. "You seem to be getting flowers on a regular basis." __I'm almost tempted to oh-so-casually ask if he's ever given B'Elanna flowers._

_Neelix, who had joined us, cleared his throat. "Actually, Commander, I'm the one who brings them."_

_Chakotay couldn't hide his shock. I still don't know how I kept a straight face. Neelix just shrugged. "Kes always told me that the beauty of flowers should be shared. And I think the Captain deserves to have a little beauty in her Ready Room, don't you?"_

"_Ah … yes, of course," Chakotay stammered. "Now," Neelix continued, "if you'd enjoy having flowers in your office, I can certainly arrange ..."_

"_That won't be necessary, but thank you," he said hurriedly._

_When the meeting was over, I catch Neelix's eye as he's leaving. He just gives me a quick wink and walks out._

xxx

This is surreal … an older version of myself with a plan to get us home. Though I'm not sure what's more surreal — the plan or the idea that I'm basically talking … no, arguing … with myself.

She finally tells me about Seven and Chakotay, which leaves me incredulous.

"When does this happen?"

"It's already going on."

I shake my head in amazement. "Sure you're not trying to prevent a murder? I take it B'Elanna doesn't know."

"He did show up in Sick Bay with a nasty black eye, and was rather evasive about how he got it," I'm told."

I suspect there's something else she's not telling me. She's giving Tom some wistful looks … like he's an obvious regret.

I confront her. "Is Tom among those who are going to die?"

"No," she shoots back. "You'll lose him, but not to death." She gives me that "I-know-what's-going-on" smile. "It's all very new between you two right now." I just nod.

"We were together for three years. He wanted to marry me. I turned him down. I was still focused on getting home, worried about protocol, what Starfleet would say, what the crew would say. Turns out no one gave a damn … including Starfleet." She shrugs. "Or maybe there was some residual guilt.

"He went back to B'Elanna for a while … just long enough to have a daughter … Miral, named after B'Elanna's mother." She sighed. "We remained friends, but anything else ..." she shakes her head.

"He started writing holonovels when we got back. Ended up marrying an editor at his publishing house. Miral tells me he's very happy."

She smiles, more softly this time. "Miral and I took to each other from the start. I was her second mother, much to B'Elanna's chagrin. She'd just graduated from the Academy when we returned. I found her a spot on my staff."

She blinks a few times to hold back the tears. "The only … The most painful part about this is that Miral will cease to exist. Then again, so will I, so I suppose it all evens out.

"I'm not presumptuous enough to suggest that you and Tom will have a blissful life together. But I figure this will give you a fair chance. What you do with it … well, that's up to you two."

xxx

I can't stop looking out the Ready Room windows … we're home. Finally home.

The door chimes. It's Tom. "Hey, missed you at the party."

"I couldn't stay long," I say as I get up. "Seven years of not hearing from much of anyone, and now the whole of Starfleet wants to talk to me."

He laughs as we take seats on the couch. "I need to ask you something," he says softly. "And not as my captain."

"All right," I answer, though I'm a bit apprehensive.

"Things have changed, and are going to change some more," he begins. I just nod. "We have some things to sort out."

"We do," I say softly. "But not just yet."

He nods in agreement. "I'm just afraid that things are going to get so crazy that we'll lose each other before we can do that. Can we make sure that doesn't happen?"

The other Admiral's words hit me full force. For a moment, I can't speak, and Tom starts to get concerned. I snap out of it and squeeze his hand. "I really don't know what's going to happen next. I'm going to do my damnedest to make sure we all walk out of this together. But I promise that no matter what happens, you're not going to lose me."

He beams, but any answer is interrupted by an infernal buzzing from the vid: Priority message. I throw up my hands; he just laughs. But instead of answering, I walk over and turn off the vid. Whatever it is can wait until morning.

"Let's get out of here," I say, holding out my hand. "We have some celebrating to do."


	7. Chapter 7

And as I look back, "crazy" was nowhere near accurate. For nearly three months, I was too damn busy with hearings and debriefings to even breathe.

The Federation wasn't interested in prosecuting those who were once Maquis. But Starfleet was rattled by the attempted mutiny. It took a great deal of politicking, and ironically, testimony from the Doctor, but Starfleet decided not to charge them. They would be free to get on with their lives.

It didn't hurt that Starfleet was short on personnel; the Dominion War losses had been staggering. A few of them took 'Fleet up on its offer of full commissions, though most, including Chakotay, decided to move on.

To everyone's surprise — except mine — Chakotay took Seven with him. In one sense, I'm glad she's out of the spotlight. She deserves to start a new life without the world looking over her shoulder. As for how the rest of it will play out, only time will tell. And it really isn't my concern … maybe it never was.

Tom let out a whistle when I told him what the other Admiral had said. "Well, he did show up in Sick Bay with that shiner. When I asked him what happened, he muttered something about his boxing program."

I sent in my review on Tom's behalf; I did owe him that, not that I had to lie. I also suspect that Owen found some strings to pull: Tom was granted a full pardon for his Maquis involvement. And Starfleet, satisfied with his record, and the senior staff's recommendations, allowed him to keep his pips.

In the end, though, I couldn't save Tuvok's career. To my relief, he wasn't charged in the attempted mutiny, either. But when his condition became known, and Starfleet Medical saw the list of mental injuries he'd sustained … it recommended a medical discharge. The board changed that to a medical retirement. It was not what he wanted, but perhaps it's for the best.

Officially, Tom and I didn't see much of each other during that time. Privately, well …

My attorney, who was concerned about my physical and mental health, arranged for me to stay at a hotel in Marin — one known for discretion, and for fiercely protecting its guests' privacy.

I took a two-bedroom suite so that I could visit with Mom and Phoebe out of the public eye. It was a simple matter to include Tom's name along with theirs, giving him access to my suite.

Not that it did much good at first. Tom couldn't leave his apartment without being followed by photographers … meaning he couldn't go near my hotel without fueling gossip. He moved back to his parents' house, but it didn't last long. After Julia turned the hose on two photographers who were peering in her dining room window, Owen booked him a room in the Marin hotel.

Though having privacy didn't necessarily lead to romance. There were some nights that I didn't roll in until midnight, too tired to do anything except curl up against him and sleep.

"When this is over," he began one night. I propped myself up on an elbow and looked at him. "Will this ever be over? Feels like it will last longer than we were out there."

He laughed and pulled me back into bed. "It will be over, Kate. And then we're due for a nice long vacation."

"Agreed. Where?"

"France. Starting with the real Sandrine's. Then, wherever we want to go."

"I can beat you at pool there just as well, you know," I quip. "But, yes, it sounds nice."

xxx

For me, showtime was the Review Board hearing. Time for my sins to be judged: not that I haven't relived most of them.

Tom was among those called to testify. Apparently, the Board had gotten wind of the gossip. Nechayev cut to the chase: Did we have an adulterous relationship?

He flatly denied it. She tried again: Was Captain Janeway involved in the failure of your marriage?

Tom gave her a look that questioned her sanity, if not her decency. "Admiral," he said coldly, "the Captain was not the reason my marriage failed, no matter what my former wife or my former crewmates say or want to believe.

"The Captain and I _did_ spend time a lot together. She had to turn me into a first officer since we'd essentially lost everyone above me in the chain of command. And we were both trying to defuse the situation created by Teero's infiltration. I'm sure you've read those reports, ma'am, especially about what happened in the Ready Room."

Several of the admirals look down; a couple visibly swallow. I'm not surprised: Admiral Patterson told me that particular report gave him nightmares.

"My marriage was in trouble from the start," he continues. "Truthfully, I proposed to keep my ex-wife from breaking up with me. In retrospect, I should have let her go.

"I certainly take my share of the blame, but it doesn't include adultery. If you want to point a finger at anyone, point it at Teero. Though really, all he did was push us off the cliff earlier than we might have gone otherwise."

Interestingly enough, no one ever asked whether Tom and I had a relationship _after_ his marriage went under. Perhaps they didn't want to know …


	8. Chapter 8

Finally, the review board finishes its grilling. I'm cleared and an Admiral's bar awaits me. But I still feel, well, charred. I refuse a ceremony to collect the medals and commendations they're awarding me, pleading exhaustion. That doesn't endear me to some folks, but I no longer care.

Tom and Harry try to get the crew together for a party … one last hurrah. But it didn't happen. Folks scattered as soon as Starfleet was finished with them. I can understand; I just wish I could have said goodbye.

xxx

Owen insists on hosting a small promotion ceremony at his home. I want to say no, but it would be rude to turn down my mentor … and especially rude to turn down my significant other's father, even if he doesn't know about _that_ yet.

Thankfully, it's a rather understated affair. Owen invited the Pathfinder staff and a small group of officers who are family friends, or who had served closely with my father.

Mom has tears in her eyes as she pins that bar on my collar. Whether it's joy, or memories, or apprehension about what I might do next, I don't know … and won't ask.

Tom's here with Harry, the Delaney sisters, Mike and the Doctor. Magnus also arrives, bringing Joe Carey's widow. All of them hug me, though I hug Tom the hardest.

A bit later, he finds me on the back deck, enjoying its view of the ocean.

"Well, _Admiral_," he teases as he briefly squeezes my shoulders, then moves to stand at my side. "Are we both officially on leave now?"

"I am … I hate to tell you this, but Mom is pushing hard for me to see my family in Indiana. I really can't refuse her, all things considered. She says you're welcome, too." We had to come clean to Mom. She showed up at the suite early one morning to surprise me. She's the one who got the surprise: Fortunately, we were both in nightclothes.

"As much as I like your mom, I've gotten all the family as I can stand for a while," he jokes. "I'm going on to France," he says, handing me a data chip. "Come find me when you can get away." The look he gives me conveys a distinct message: _The ball's in your court. _

_xxx_

It took about a week before I could decently get away, but finally, I'm in front of a familiar bar in Marseille. I slip in and have a look around, but no Tom.

"Can I help you?" the bartender asks.

"I hope so. I'm looking for Tom Paris. We're supposed to meet here."

The bartender's eyes widen. "You are Catherine?" I nod.

"Please, sit down," he says, waving at a barstool. He grabs a young waiter and whispers urgently to him. The young man nods and practically runs out the back door.

The bartender returns with a glass of white wine, which he puts in front of me. "Thomas will be down shortly," he says with a small bow.

I'm about halfway through the glass when the back door bursts open and Tom runs in. He's a bit disheveled and needs a shave. I suspect he may have been rousted from bed. But when he sees me, his smile is as bright as the sun.

He practically skids up to my barstool, and before I can utter a word, he picks me up and gives me the soundest kiss I've ever had. The room erupts in applause and cheers … So I do the only sensible thing: I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him back …

xxx

We spent a lovely six weeks together. When we finally made it out of bed, we toured France, then went on to Italy, then Ireland, exploring the smaller cities, blending in with the other tourists.

By then, it was early summer, and I had promised to join the family at Lake George. It wasn't the ocean, but Tom and I enjoyed sailing and sitting by the fire at night … not to mention sneaking off to the boathouse. I really should thank Phoebe for hiding that cot in there … then again, maybe she'd rather not know we used it, too.

But eventually, Real Life returned, and Starfleet called. Tom was offered a post at the Flight Center on Mars. Neither of us was happy about the distance, but he couldn't turn it down. It's a good job, one that lets him establish himself out of the shadow of headquarters, and more importantly, away from his father.

As for me, I spent nearly six months attached to Intelligence, outlining the various threats and potential allies in the Delta Quadrant. (And no one, including me, believes that the Borg have been destroyed.)

After that, I dodged the Diplomatic Corps' offers and snagged a posting in the Tech section. I'm commanding a department instead of a ship, but at least it's something I love.

At the moment, we've nicely settled into a long-distance relationship. We talk to each other daily, see each other every two weeks or so as schedules allow. And during those visits, we certainly enjoy our … alone time.

Formally, we share this house; God knows he has enough stuff here. But by unspoken agreement, we don't talk about the next step. The time isn't right: He needs more distance from his failed marriage, and we both need to carve out careers away from Voyager.

And since I know that next step will involve a commitment, I want to make sure that I'm rid of some of my baggage. Starfleet handed me that admiral's bar along with orders to continue counseling. While Tom helped to keep me human out there, I still have seven years' worth of guilt and trauma to sort through.

xxx

Not that everyone is on the same timetable. During a visit to Mars, he casually waves me over to his vid terminal and calls up a file.

It's a message from Harry, who is looking a bit pained.

"_Hey, buddy … first of all, don't shoot me, I'm only the messenger. I heard from B'Elanna. She married that engineer she met on Jupiter Station." He shook his head, "I know ..."_

"_Anyway … damn, this is embarrassing … she asked me to deliver a message. Said you could screw the Admiral, or the Federation president, or a whole Kazon sect for all she cares."_

"Well," I say when he turns it off. "I'm glad for her, but I sense some latent hostility. How do you feel about this?"

He shrugs. "I wish her every happiness. But I am rather insulted by that last line."

"Well, that makes two of us," I admit, though I'd love to hear what she had to say to Chakotay.

His answer was to pull me over into his lap. "You know, I don't think I could ever just screw you."

"Excuse me? I'm not sure how to take that."

He laughs. "Well, to me that means using someone simply for sex; not caring about her, or having any interest in a relationship. That certainly doesn't apply to you … to us … at all."

"Well, I'm glad you cleared that up," I say as I slide my mouth over his.


	9. Chapter 9

Saturday morning, and I'm out for a walk with our new puppy. Actually, another walk with our new puppy, since hanging around the house is making me nervous.

Tom's been here since Thursday, interviewing for a post at the Academy's flight school in Point Reyes, the center for advanced pilot training. He finished up yesterday afternoon and we figured there would be a wait. But Admiral Williams called late last night, asking to meet over breakfast.

We're about a half-block from the house when I see him sitting on the steps. Addie sees him, too, and drags me the distance as Tom watches, laughing.

"So?" I ask after I properly welcome him home.

"Hey, that's my favorite shirt," he says tugging at the garment.

"Mine, too. So, what did Williams want?"

He just looks down as Addie paws at his legs. "Well, there you are," he says as he picks up the wiggling ball of fur and scratches her head. "You know, I am starting to see a bit of Labrador in her."

"Well, the shelter was told that dad was a Lab," I say. "Since you obviously aren't going to tell me anything, we might as well have lunch."

I try again as we put food on the table. "So, what happened?"

He just grins as he fishes for something in his messenger bag, then hands me a PADD. I read, then throw my arms around him. He got it: An instructor's post at the flight school. And it comes with a promotion to full commander.

"Well, they made the right choice; You will be great," I say, "But damn, that was quick!"

"No kidding. I thought he had more questions, but he made the offer just after the coffee was served."

We talk about the meeting and the new posting over lunch; afterward, we adjourn to the back deck.

"I'm delighted that you got the job, but you've never told me why you changed your mind about applying.."

He's quiet for a moment. "I decided that I wasn't giving it a fair chance. I talked to some folks to get a sense of the post, and liked what I heard." He looks over at me. "And I think it's time we bring our relationship out of the shadows."

I'm not sure what he's getting at. "I certainly don't deny you. People know that we're together."

He gets up and paces. "I know that … and I don't deny you, either. But we're back to the way things were on Voyager. We talk to each other every day, but we're only together for a short time … in private … then we're apart again." He waves at the neighbor's house. "I mean, that guy still gives me odd looks when he sees me out here, or out walking Addie."

He sits. "I'm tired of living separate lives. I want to come home to you. I want us to go out together; have people in for dinner ..."

I understand now. "I miss you, too, and I want the same things. But you know, we have demanding jobs. It's likely you'll be waiting for _me_ to come home. And I'll have to travel on occasion. So unless that changes, we'll still have to carve out time together."

"Well, at least we'll be in the same place," he points out. "And I will have downtime between training sessions."

"We've never lived together full-time. I'm not always easy to deal with," I point out.

"I'm aware," he says with a grin. "Nor am I. On the other hand, we're able to disagree without coming to blows or wrecking the house. I think we'll be just fine."

"I think we will, too," I say, smiling. A thought occurs to me. "I suppose we may have to redecorate a bit?"

He starts to laugh. "Well, at least in the bedroom … maybe sheets that are a little less … flowery?"

"Hmm .. you've never complained before."

"I was usually thinking about something else."

"Oh, I see," I tease. "I'm just going to have to divert your attention, at least until we can agree on what we ..." My sentence is interrupted as he suddenly leans in and kisses me.

"I think diversion is an excellent idea," he says as he stands and pulls me from my seat. "And I think we can start right now."


End file.
